Make-Up
by TheLittlestRaindrop
Summary: Set during Book Of Circus. As Noah's Arc Circus' resident clown (and Joker's sister), you're no stranger to having to put on make-up. However, today you just can't seem to get it right. Enter Black, the circus' newest recruit, with an offer of help you simply can't refuse.


'I need a real job.' You say to your reflection. You've been sat at your dressing table in your tent for what feels like hours, trying to do your makeup for the big performance tonight. You just can't get it right for some reason…

You joined the circus about six months ago, after reuniting with your brother, who is known here as 'Joker'. You were delighted to discover that he was still alive, but concerned over his career choice. After all, 'Ringmaster' isn't the most conventional career choice for a man with one arm! Nevertheless, you've seen with your own eyes just how happy he is here, with a group of friends who treat him like family. He even has a girlfriend! You'd decided to join his merry crew, if only to stay close to him. You've already lost him once, there's no way you'll risk that again.

Your role is that of a clown. It's completely undignified, and it scares as many children as it amuses, but it's what you're good at.

You just wish you could be good at something that doesn't require a stupid amount of make-up!

You growl angrily. The show is due to start in less than an hour, and you're not even dressed! You prefer to put your costume on after your make-up, as you don't want to risk staining it. It's stretchy enough to slip over your head without it rubbing off your make-up, although it does ruin your hair. Still, that's not an issue, given that you wear a wig on stage.

You decide you have time to redo your make-up one last time. Wiping away the current layer, you make a start on your mouth, drawing a nice, wide grin…

The tent flap rustles. 'Miss, are you in there?' The sound makes you jump, your hand jolting violently. This causes you to streak make-up all the way to your eye, ruining this attempt as well. You throw the vanity product onto the dressing table, screaming in frustration. Your visitor takes that as an invitation, letting himself into the tent.

Your heart stops when you see his reflection in the mirror.

Your visitor is none other than Black, one of the Circus' latest recruits. As clichéd as it sounds, he really is tall, dark, and handsome. Those raven locks, slender muscles, and dazzling red eyes are enough to make any woman swoon over him. You yourself are no exception, fantasising about most nights. Alas, there's no way he'll pay any attention to you, at least not romantically. As Joker's sister, you're pretty much untouchable, the other members of the Circus giving you a wide berth for fear of his reaction. You're certain Black will be even more cautious than the others, fearing the wrath of his newfound employer.

Still, a lady can dream.

That dream is more like a nightmare right now, as you remember the state of your face. You hope he hasn't clocked your make-up mishap yet, or else you're in for a whole world of embarrassment. Then reality hits you like a bucket of ice water; you're currently sat wearing nothing but your underwear, and a loose shirt that dips low enough to display the tops of your breasts. You may as well be sat stark naked for all your clothing covers! Your face turns scarlet as the reality sets in, and you have to take a moment to compose yourself before you can turn around and greet him.

Just as you turn, he opens his mouth to speak. 'Sorry for the intrusion, Miss, but you sounded as if you were in some degree of distress. I do apologise for walking in on you in such an… exposed state.' His eyes roam your body, drinking in the sight of you. When his gaze falls upon your face, he smirks. 'I see you're having difficulty getting ready. Care for some assistance?' You feel even more embarrassed than you did a moment ago, but carefully consider his offer. At this rate, there's no way in hell you're going to be ready in time to perform. Then again, what could this man possibly know about clown make-up?

You wipe away your last failed attempt, before sighing heavily. Help of any kind sounds fantastic. 'I'd appreciate the help, Black. Have you got any experience with this kind of thing?' His smirk grows wider.

'Oh, I have plenty of experience in a whole multitude of things. I'd be more than happy to demonstrate them for you.' He produces a chair from somewhere, and positions it next to yours. He takes the make-up you're currently holding (a lip crayon), his hands deliberately caressing yours as he does. You look him dead in the eyes, and you swear you can see a hint of lust in them. You must be imagining it though, as he gets down to business straight away, positioning your head in a way that gives him full access to your face.

He brings the crayon to your lips, gently dragging in across your lower one. You can feel it sticking to your lip, staining it crimson. He repeats his actions on your top lip, making it match its twin. When he's satisfied with his work, he sets the crayon down. He examines your face, as if he's trying to figure out what to do next. Inspiration clearly strikes him, as next he decides to go for the white face paint.

The paint is cold against your skin, making you shiver slightly. At least, you presume that's what caused it. It could just have easily have been caused by the man sat mere inches in front of you, doing your make-up for you. It hadn't occurred to you before, but the act is very intimate. Usually only lovers get this close…

His words break you out of your thoughts. 'Such soft skin. Tell me, why stay here? A woman as lovely as you must surely have better ways to spend her time.' Your blush returns. No one has ever called you 'lovely' before. How do you respond to such a thing? Do you act coy? Flirt with him? You feel so lost!

You sputter out a response. 'I-I'm here for Joker.' He chuckles lowly at your reply, face never dropping that damned smirk.

'I see. You've sacrificed much, following your brother so closely. I've been talking to the other males here, you know. Not one of them called you anything other than stunning. Yet when was the last time you felt a man's touch? I bet you lie awake night, dreaming of the day someone finally decides to ease the longing ache between your legs.' You shift your legs together automatically. He's being so bold! It's starting to affect you in the best possible ways…

He finishes coating your face in white. You're about to look at yourself in the mirror, but he stops you by gently grabbing your chin. 'Ah, ah, ah. No peeking, you curious little minx. I want you to get the full effect.' He picks up a jet black eyeliner. 'Close your eyes for me.' His words are stupidly sexy, all but forcing you to comply.

The eyeliner is wet, which makes the application of it feel strange to say the least. Having your eyes closed heightens the sensation of each brush stroke, as well as setting your nerves on fire. Black could be do anything to you right now, and you wouldn't be able to see it coming. It's exciting!

He finishes far too quickly. 'There. Take a look.' You open your eyes slowly, breaking out of your anticipatory state. You take a look in the mirror, gasping at what you see. Your whole face is ghostly pale, with the exception of your crimson lips and jet black eyes. You look like a doll! It's almost beautiful, but it's totally wrong! You're supposed to be funny, not pretty! How do you tell him that he's done it totally wrong?!

He stands, positioning himself behind you. His hands land on your shoulders, subtly pushing the fabric of your top down your arms. He leans down to whisper in your ear, your eyes locking in the mirror. 'I've made you up like a Geisha girl. They're a special type of whore from Japan, praised for their beauty and grace. From the moment I first saw you, I have desired to make you my own personal Geisha. I want nothing more than to steal you away, and keep you hidden from the world. No other man deserves to bask in your radiance. They are unworthy of you, goddess that you are, and I shall delight in denying them your heavenliness.' The shirt has been pushed down far enough to reveal your breasts, exposing your erected nipples to him. A part of you think that is wrong, that you should push him away, but the rest of you is aching for his touch. After all, you've been fantasising about him constantly. This is almost like a dream come true.

He reaches for your nipples, toying with them as he maintains eye contact. You lean back into him, allowing pleasure to wash over you. You're past caring if this is wrong any more. Right now, he's the only thing in existence.

One of his hands slides it's way down your body, heading straight for your underwear. He slides his long fingers into them, and you shift your hips to allow him better access. He lets out a groan when he discovers how wet you've become.

He teases your folds lightly, his other hand continuing to tease your breast. He starts whispering to you again, his teeth tugging at your earlobe. 'That's it, surrender to me. Let my touch consume you whole. Be a good girl and stand up for me; I want you to see something.' You do as instructed, slowing rising from your chair. Black moves back a bit to accommodate your new position. Your eyes remain fixed on the mirror, taking in the sight of your mostly-nude body. As you gaze travels lower, so does the hand on your breast, joining its twin when you eyes fall on your underwear. When he's certain your gaze is fixed, he tears the garment from you, throwing it away somewhere in the room. He coaxes your legs apart with one of his own, giving you a view of your glistening sex. He runs his fingers across your folds, caressing them softly. Your eyes begin to drift shut, the pleasure of his touch overwhelming.

Your eyes snap open when he inserts two fingers into you, the intrusion unexpected but not unwelcome. You let out a moan without even realising it, body no longer your own. You're all his now, pure and simple.

He leans you forward, encouraging you to place your hands on the dressing table. When you're bent over, he slips a third finger into you, increasing the pace in which his fingers pleasure you. He puts his freehand next to yours so that he can lean over you. You can feel his erection pressing against you, rock hand and clearly desperate to be inside of you.

Suddenly, Black bites down on your neck, causing you to gasp in pain. The bite is so forceful that you're certain it will remain visible for weeks after he's finished with you.  
Black stands a little straighter, so that he can use the hand on the desk to pull your hair instead. His fingers continue to toy with you relentlessly, and you can feel an orgasm on its way. His words are little more than a growl when he speaks again.

'There, now everyone can see you're taken. Speaking of which, I think it's time we finished this. I fear I'm out of patience.' He removes his hand from you, earning him a wanton moan from you. You hear him fiddling with the fastenings of his trousers, before feeling something solid against your entrance. He slips into you with ease, exhaling as your warmth consumes him.

Both of his hands grips your hips as he starts moving, his pace unrelenting. All you can do is lean against your dresser and let him pound you into euphoria. You can see what he's doing to you in the mirror, which only turns you on more. It's obscene, watching a mostly-clothed man have his way with you. It's also the single sexiest thing you've ever seen, and you hope it never ends.

Alas, you feel your orgasm wash over you with great intensity, signalling that your tryst is nearing it's end.

Sure enough, Black finishes moments after you, spilling inside of you as he moans your name.

He doesn't withdraw straight away, leaving his softening cock inside of you as he trails kisses down your spine. You're too tired to do anything more than hum at his affection, enjoying the tickling sensation his kisses produce. Eventually, he slips out of you, his release trailing down your leg. You should probably clean up before…

Oh god. The show! You're late for the show!

Panic sets in, and you desperately begin to search for your outfit. Black chuckles, clearly finding your stress amusing. As he tucks himself back in, he lets you in on the joke.

'Your services aren't required tonight. I was sent by your brother to tell you that you're to relax tonight. After all, there are plenty of new cast members that can take your place for tonight. Speaking of which, I really should be going now. I shall be back tonight, my sweet little Geisha Girl, to show you just what kind of man you've affiliated yourself with. Fear not, for I shall not tell your brother of our affair. Yet, at least. See you soon.' He swiftly exits the tent, leaving you feeling dazed.

As you wipe away the evidence of your passion, you make a mental note to ask him for make-up tips.


End file.
